


Holy

by indefensibleselfindulgence



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Canon Typical Weirdnes, Eloping, Epistolary, F/F, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-19 19:16:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20214895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indefensibleselfindulgence/pseuds/indefensibleselfindulgence
Summary: Her life would be so much easier if all she had to do was write letters.





	Holy

**Author's Note:**

> listen this summer has been a stressful nightmare but at least we can all imagine daisy in a suit of armor with a sword

Dear Ser,  
  
I often find myself thinking about what it would be like to see you in person. I know, of course, that the odds of us seeing each other again are slim, but I try and hold the memory of you all those nights ago close. The way the candlelight of the church caught your hair, the way your cheeks reddened with drink. The memory of the preacher stays so firm in my mind, and I find myself having dreams of your charge often, but dreams of you are so far between. Why does he linger in place of you, I wonder?  
  
Awaiting your reply,  
Basira Hussain  
  


…

  
  
She watches Jon sleep with her hand on the pommel of her sword.  
  
Usually, of course, she wouldn't bother, she would lay on her cot, back turned to the light from his writing desk and trying rather desperately to close her eyes and drift off. But it's so rare that Jon is actually tired, so rare that he begs off of his late night duties to rest.  
  
The last time it happened, there had been an assassination attempt.  
  
She would be lying if she said she was not hoping for another one.  
  
Not that she didn't like Jon- sure he was annoying, at times, pedantic certainly, but once they stopped being so awkwardly antagonist to each other, she could even admit that she liked spending time with him. And it was her job, after all, a very important job that if not done well would probably result in her death.  
  
If not something worse.  
  
Her sword is light in her palm, the metal cold like everything else in the room.  
  
She's been told repeatedly not to leave the windows open, but it's not like Jon can sleep any other way.  
  
The night drags on slowly, a few times she has to get up from her seat and walk around the room to stay awake. It's a sacred duty, keeping the Archivist safe, and if she doesn't, who will?  
  
There is a new member of the guard, but Daisy doesn't trust her, even if Jon does talk with her on occasion, in something that could almost be called friendly tones, but she doesn't trust her, can't trust her, really. It's her job, not to trust people.  
  
It's kept him alive long enough anyway.  
  
There's a rustle of the fabric and then a scream, and she's by his side in an instant, making sure he doesn't hurt himself. The nightmares are every plaguing, and she really can't remember the last time he's slept through a full night.  
  
“Jon- Jon-” She grabs his wrists, sword abandoned at her side for the first time in hours. “It's alright, everything's alright. You're fine.”  
  
“Funny way of putting it.” He grits out after a moment, trying to tug his hands free.  
  
“What was it off?” Her voice isn't as kind as it probably should be, but she's a guard, not a nursemaid. Talking helps, though, she's been told, by the few assistants that still think kindly of him.  
  
“The-” He finally stills, and she lets go of his hands. They sit in his lap, and he stares down at them. He looks tired, but when doesn't he, when isn't he. “Blackened Earth.”  
  
“Don't think you've told me that one yet.”  
  
He takes the invitation almost eagerly, and tells her in detail that makes her feel too warm inside her armor and too lightheaded from smoke that isn't there. It's easy to close her eyes and imagine the monstrous wax and the scalding glass they leave in their wake. He'd be good at writing stories, if he wasn't such an important figure in their church.  
  
“Well, it's all gone now. And none of it's anywhere near you.” People made out of wax, honestly. She knows about the dolls and the twisted shapes and the corpses but the walking burning wax- just thinking about it makes her want to jump into a lake. “You're in your room, in your bed. Everything's fine.”  
  
“Elias- Elias will want to know.” He frowns, and she puts a hand on his shoulder before he even thinks of getting up.  
  
“And he will. He probably already does. You know what he's like.” She tries to push him flat, but he puts a hand over hers.  
  
“Go tell Elias.” His voice does that thing, that dangerous, unpleasant thing that she really thought was behind them and their interactions.  
  
So she stands, armor clattering in the rush, and goes to tell Elias.  
  


…

  
  
My Lady,  
  
My charge is a fascinating person, and even after a year in the employ of the church, I find myself discovering more and more fantastic things about him. The other day, over drink, not that he can, mind you, we- or rather, I discovered that his memory is pristine. I had annoyed him too much, and he thought it funny to tease me about you. He recalled you in perfect detail, even mimicked your accent. It doesn't compare to the real thing, of that I can assure you. I do not know if he will be traveling, and as such, if I will be traveling with him into your area any time soon, but until then,  
  
Yours,  
Daisy Tonner  
  


…

  
  
She sits in the garden and watches Jon talk to Elias.  
  
It was under her insistence, of course, because he really needs to be outside more. He's as pale as the corpses that she's seen before, and probably just as weak in constitution. She's never had the displeasure of meeting one, she wouldn't know.  
  
Probably the same sense of humor though.  
  
Elias stares at Jon with that hungry look he always wears and Daisy wonders just like she always does when they're in a room together if she's allowed to defend Jon from Elias in the first place.  
  
“Hello.” One of the assistants, Martin, she thinks, the one who likes Jon too much stands by her, one hand covering his eyes from the sun. “Lovely day.” She doesn't give him an suggestion that she's interested in a conversation, and still, he sits next to her and smiles. “How have you been?”  
  
“Fine.”  
  
“That's- That's go- great. Is uh- Is Jon around? I mean, he must be if you're here, so I was just wondering-”  
  
She points at the two figures.  
  
As if he doesn't already know where Jon is at every instance.  
  
“Oh with- ah.” He nods, and even if she doesn't look at him, she can hear the sadness in the sigh.  
  
“He's busy later.” She says as dryly as she can. “The ambassador types will be here tomorrow. Has to rehearse.”  
  
“Oh-” Martin says, again, and straightens just a little bit. “Well, he needs an audience, doesn't he? I could- I mean I could find Tim and uh, Melanie maybe? And he can practice on us?” If that's alright with his guard, she supposed is the rest of the sentiment.  
  
Jon looks irritated, even from here, she can see the way his hands twitch at his sides the way they always do when he's annoyed.  
  
“We'll see.”  
  
“I'll go find them.”  
  
“I didn't say yes.”  
  
“Mm- You didn't say no thought. Either.”  
  
Daisy sighs rather very deeply.  
  


…

  
  
Dear Ser,  
  
I find myself wondering on your hobbies from time to time. What do you do in your free time- do you have any free time? Are you constantly bound to your charge not leaving you even moments of peace? I've found myself taking up textile weaving, and I've attached something I'm rather proud. I hope you can wear it as a favor perhaps? In addition, I've heard a rumor that the Church is looking for someone to assist your preacher. I would lie if I said I didn't consider it, at least once or twice.  
  
Yours,  
Basira Hussain  
  


…

  
  
Daisy doesn't leave Jon's side for the entire banquet.  
  
She can fade away, blend with others when he's having important conversations but she's never more than an arm's length away. To grab him and pull him behind sword. He's meant to speak, once the moon shines through the glass, but until then every single one of these freaks looks like they want to murder him.  
  
Or worse.  
  
Elias had called her into his office, which is a place she hated being in, and lectured her for the better half of an hour as to how to do her job.  
  
Elias himself is talked to a wealthy looking merchant, in a long coat despite it being the middle of summer, and laughing about something undoubtedly obnoxious. Jon is talking to two tall people, a man, and a woman. Looking at them feels wrong.  
  
Every time she thinks she catches a decent look at one of them it's like the entire room spins, and it's gone again. The man is blonde, she thinks. The woman's nails are painted, maybe. To go and tell Elias that something like this is happening would require her leaving Jon and that's not something she can afford to do right now.  
  
But Jon at least seems to be having a decent time.  
  
So that's nice.  
  
Good for him.  
  
Would could be a minute or could be an hour passes before Jon turns to talk to her. The man and the woman have turned away, but they smile to each other.  
  
The smiles hurt her.  
  
“Are you alright?” She shrugs.  
  
It feels like there's something sharp in her skull, prodding at something just as sensitive.  
  
“Do you want something?” She asks instead, because Jon seems fine and he's never been one for hiding pain. “We can get you something.”  
  
“I'm fine, Daisy.”  
  
Someone laughs, and it feels like it sinks into her spine, settles somewhere in her lower back, and gnaws.  
  
“Yeah.” She says. She's aware it sounds empty. She doesn't know if Jon notices. “Speech soon?”  
  
“That is how time works.”  
  
“And has that proven to be consistent for you?”  
  
He laughs, hand bumping against her own. Someone else comes up to talk to Jon then, a short woman who practically radiates heat and Daisy has to wonder if she's had too much to drink.

**Author's Note:**

> the second chapter will be up soon
> 
> comments are always encouraged and very very very appreciated
> 
> find me on[ tumblr ](http://iamalivenow.tumblr.com/) and [ twitter](https://twitter.com/licotain)


End file.
